


Get Drunk, Get Wasted, Fuck Up and Make Up

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Series: Filled Prompts [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Bullying, Childhood Friends, Cuddles, Denial, Depression, F/M, Families of Choice, Grief/Mourning, Humor, I lied some parts of this isn't funny, Jealousy, Jean and Bertl are nerds~, Love Triangles, M/M, Meet the Family, Meeting the Parents, Minor Character Death, Rimming, Rivalry, Sharing a Bed, Suicide, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Drinking, well hints of it in first chapter, will be mentioned in later ones too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything started with a party. Mixed with a little something-something in someone's drink, add a jealous not boyfriend and some conflicted emotions and you get yourself a perfect start to exactly what Jean was waiting for. A chance with Bertholdt Fubar. </p><p>Now if only Annie could get Reiner to stay away for more than an hour...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It started with sex

**Author's Note:**

> This began with a prompt about kinks. It later became a thought of "multiple chapters?" after seeing another prompt on the lovely kink meme and I had the ground work already in place, the OOC-ness of the character's all thought off. And well... here we go!
> 
> Prompts for the number kink was:: #4: Aphrodisiacs AND #10: Striptease.
> 
> The prompt that I will be focusing on now will be found here: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3744544
> 
>  
> 
> And I'm not going to lie, the porn was hard to write in this. I had to skip ahead a few times, write a different part then go back and find a way to connect it. And then when Reiner was there too. Oh god, just. Ugh. Too much smex in chapter one. Toooooooo much!

Small towns sucked when you were trying to buy booze. High school students couldn’t exactly walk in and walk out with everything they wanted. No matter how good your fake ID was. Everyone knew everyone else. And because of that you would have to turn to other means.

Like begging your parents, or your friend’s parents— the ones that don’t care about you drinking. Or your siblings—blackmail goes a long way sometimes. Or maybe even knowing a few people.

But that’s the problem with small towns—they’re small. Everyone knows everyone. And when there’s a party, no matter how quiet everyone tries to keep it, it will be found out. And police will show up, break it up, and give a bunch of people warnings. Maybe even a night in holding that just leaves a pretty story for someone to brag about.

That’ all, that’s it.

So when a group of kids get together, throw a party, and get drunk—they do it quick. They get drunk; no they get _wasted_ , and fuck shit up. And maybe when they’re sober they’ll make up. But there’s always those times that they _don’t_. The times that the cops don’t come and teenaged stupidity, and lust run wild.

Those are the times that these small town kids truly get to run wild.

And fuck up.

Bertholdt sighed leaning against the closest wall; the room was spinning in front of his eyes. And was it just him or was the room getting hotter? “Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. Where were Annie and Reiner when he needed them? He pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck; it did nothing to lessen the heat ransacking his body.

“Dude, Bertholdt—” he recognized that voice. Shit, who was that? The male’s face blurred in and out of focus. The tall teen reached out and grasped the dirty blonde strands of hair hanging down the other’s forehead. “You’re fucked,” the same voice shouted over the pulsing music and other voices mending over the beats.

Bertholdt wrapped an arm around the shorter male and leaned forward—just who was this person with the silky dirty blonde hair. He narrowed his eyes, blinked twice and the picture of a teen nearly a year younger than he. “Hey Jean,” he grinned his forehead resting against Jean’s. “Why is it so hot in here?” he slurred rubbing their noses together.

The younger teen smelt fantastic, under the faint odor of sweat and _heat._ Why was everything so fucking hot, and how the hell did heat suddenly develop a smell? And how did he get his hair that soft? He does bleach and dye it, it’s one of the worst kept secretes in the whole school. Bertholdt couldn’t help but rub a hand up from the base of Jean’s neck, over the stubble of dark hair and into the dirty blonde hair that made up Jean’s undercut. _Fuck this kid’s attractive_ , Bertholdt’s mind supplemented as it brought a larger grin to his lips.

“Bertholdt,” the dirty blonde pulled at the hand buried in his hair. “I don’t think you should be hanging off me. I could go get Reiner—” Bertholdt brought his hand that was holding him up against the wall to Jean’s lips.

“Sshh,” he slurred his thumb caressing the younger male’s bottom lip; “we’re just _friends_.” That’s what Reiner always said. After all the kisses shared in secluded hallways at school, in Reiner’s truck, or on Bertholdt’s couch hidden away in the basement. After all the rushed hand jobs, and the sloppy blowies. Or the rare times that they would **fuck** in Bertholdt’s bedroom when his parents left the house, and Reiner would make him _scream_ and beg to betaken harder.

Reiner had said that they were _just friends_.

Fuck Reiner, and fuck his _just friends_.

Just friends don’t tell one another that they _like_ the other, and just expect that the next moment everything will be like nothing ever happened. _Didn’t even wait for the cum to cool_. “I think you should sit down,” Jean voiced—ever the voice of reason that boy. Bertholdt shook his head, their noses rubbing together at each shake. “If Annie or Reiner sees you draped all over me, they’ll think I did something to you and they’ll ki—” why was he talking about Reiner again? Bertholdt frowned; he didn’t want to remember the fact that he lost his virginity to his _best friend_ —couldn’t even say that he lost it _with_. After all Reiner had already fucked a bunch of girls before he began to question his sexuality.

Why was he thinking about him? Oh yeah, because Jean couldn’t stop mentioning him. The blonde’s lips were really nice—full, plump lips that just looked like they needed to be kissed. To be nibbled on, to be sucked on. Jean’s tongue wet his lips, running over his thumb and Bertholdt’s breath hitches. The older teen leaned toward and smushed their lips together.  Jean’s fingers laced through the senior’s and loosened his grip on his hair. “What are you doing?” Jean panted moving away from half open lips and watched in fascination at the pink tongue that darted out to wet his lips.

“I was kissing you,” Bertholdt replied running his tongue along his bottom lip. All he could taste was cheap beer, and Pepsi. He leaned forward again, and Jean stepped back in response. Bertholdt sighed heavily, dropping his arm from where it rest around the junior’s neck. _What’s wrong with me?_ He thoughts, clenching his eyes shut. First Reiner didn’t want him, now this. Couldn’t he kiss someone without them pushing him away? Wasn’t he fucking _attractive_?

It wasn’t like he telling someone that he wanted to have his wicked way with them.

Fuck he was getting hotter. A bead of sweat dripped down the back of his neck. He felt sick, the heat coming from his body mixed with the pulsing beat of the music—it made his head spin, made his stomach clench. And the bitter taste of rejection lingering in his mouth, mixing with the foul taste of shit beer and pop. He wasn’t drunk—he couldn’t be drunk, not from that shit. “You don’t look so good,” Jean voiced his hand, his cool hand, pressing gently against his sweltering forehead. He shuttered, the low moan swallowed and drowned by the music.

Jean hooked the same arm that was around him from before around his shoulders and he wrapped an arm around the senior’s waist. Bertholdt leaned on the younger male, he made him feel better. Broke through the blistering heat, and allowed his mind to focus on something other than the unbearable heat building in his stomach. “Where are we going?” Bertholdt inquired as they rounded a corner and took a flight of stairs to the second level of the farm house.

“You’re going to sleep this off, and I’m going to get you a glass of water,” Jean replied holding open a door for the older teen. Bertholdt shrugged, but stumbled into the room all the same. “I’ll be right back.”

Bertholdt sighed, flopping back into the double sized bed, “shit.” Why was it so fucking hot? He unbuttoned his flannel, pushing it from his shoulders till it fell from his arms and onto the bed by his waist. His brushed a hand through sweat damp hair, pushing dark locks from his forehead. On the nightstand to his left sat a few picture frames, Bertholdt took the closest one in hand. Four smiling faces beamed up at him, and from what he could make out with the light coming through the window, it was Jean and his siblings.

Small town—everyone pretty much knows everyone.

Bertholdt set the frame back in its spot before standing and moving to stand in front of the window. The heat was coming back. He rolled the bottom of his tank top half way up his chest before reaching to pull it up and over his head. “Whoa! What are you doing?”

Bertholdt glanced down at his shirt hanging limp in his hand before glancing through his lashes at Jean. The door open and clutched in one hand while a bottle of water was in the other. “I’m hot,” he said slowly—his voice rising in question at the end.

“Doesn’t mean that you need to start taking—oh you mean hot temperature wise…” Jean’s cheeks flushed. _Great going Jean, really fucking smooth._ He closed the door behind him, inclosing the two of them in the room.

Shit, he shouldn’t have done that.

Bertholdt smiled, “you think I’m attractive?” He titled his head in question, his body only jerking slightly to regain his balance.

The lights from outside shown through the blinds the lines of light decorating his tanned cheeks and chest. Yes, he found Bertholdt attractive—he could admit that. He would also admit that he admired the older teen as well. And that laugh that he had—too precious to describe. And that ass—just, _Dat Ass_. He’s got the booty. That’s for sure.

This must seem sudden—with Jean’s infatuation with the senior. It was a _crush_ , it’s a little crush. They hardly knew each other, just friends of friends who are friends with each other. Whenever Marco and Reiner would hang out, so would Jean and Bertholdt. The other two would go on about their sports, while Bertholdt would stand behind the blonde with his hands in his pockets. That’s how they met, and from there conversations would sprout.

Bertholdt liked a lot of different genres of music, they loved a lot of the same books series, Bertholdt loved learning different languages. Jean’s fluent in French and Swedish on top of their shared knowledge of English, and Bertholdt knows Russian, German, and Italian. And that he’s currently self-teaching himself French (with help from the great wide internet).  Bertholdt and Jean are both Supernatural and Hannibal watchers. The Lord of the Rings will always be Berholdt’s favourite series, followed by Harry Potter simply because of the childhood memories. Bertholdt was a Marvel guy, while Jean liked DC. Bertholdt had a huge sweet tooth, and near constant craving for French fries. Which Jean would have to agree with— French fries were great. Can’t go wrong with French fries.

Okay, so the hardly was a lie. They knew a bit about each other.

Jean bit the inside of his cheek, “possibly,” he sighed. He glanced up from the floor— _holy shit, when did he get this close?_ The blonde closed his eyes out of instinct when he felt the other’s lips touch his. Bertholdt’s hand gripping the back of his head and forcing it back with a sharp tug of his hair. _Ouch_. The bottle fell from his fingers, and that’s all that Jean’s mind could comprehend.

One arm wrapped around Berhtoldt’s shoulders while the other clutched onto the older boy’s waist. “I want you to fuck me,” Bertholdt whispered against his lips before kissing him again. And again. And again. Each kiss growing more forceful between the two and Jean felt the tension leave his shoulders that he didn’t even realize that he had. The blonde nipped at the brunette’s bottom lip and pulled as he pulled away for a breath of air.

Feet moved towards the bed, their hands pulling the other towards their bodies, and their lips opening. The back on Jean’s legs hit the bed and the two boys toppled over. The junior grunted in discomfort, and Bertholdt quickly pecked the corner of his lips and nipped at where his jaw met neck. Jean groaned rolling over, dragging Bertholdt along with him as they switched places.

He panted against Jean’s mouth, tongue running over his teeth. Grey eyes stared half lidded up at him, hand trailing down his toned stomach and pausing at the button of his jeans. The dyed blonde swallowed thickly, hazel eyes wavering between wanting to focus on the path that the senior was leading towards, or focusing on Bertholdt’s chest. Because holy shit look at all that skin.

He eased down the taller teen’s body, giving into the urge to lick, to kiss, and to nip at the flesh. Jean kissed from Bertholdt’s collar bone, sucking at the skin pulled taut over the bone, to nipple. He blew the harden nub. He glanced up at the senior, his tongue flicked over the nipple. Bertholdt’s hips jerked under his hand at the stimulation. “Shit,” Bertholdt hissed between clenched teeth. Jean smirked wrapping his lips around the tinny nub and sucking.

The senior gripped the back on Jean’s head, weaving his fingers through the unbelievably soft hair and just holding him there. Jean huffed, ghosting his teeth over the nipple before lapping it. Bertholdt’s other hand took hold of the younger boy’s shirt and pulling it up to his armpits. Jean sat back on his knees, watching Bertholdt’s hands fall back to the bed by his waist.

He trailed a finger down the middle of the tan chest, to the senior’s belt buckle. His hazel eyes glancing up to seek the older teens approval— _Can I_? Bertholdt’s hips rose in response. His fingers unbuckling the belt and popping the button, Jean’s tongue wet his lips as he pulled the zipper down.

He was really doing this. He was going to have sex with Bertholdt. _Holy fuck_!

He couldn’t help but grin as he pulled his long sleeved shirt up and over his head, tossing it from his person. The blonde glanced at his nightstand, should he get it now or later? _Now, I’ll get it now_ , he thought leaning over to open the drawer and pulling out a condom and lube before throwing it onto the bed.  Jean’s body dropped, mouthing at the skin above the waistband of the senior’s boxers.

He pulled both the pants and underwear over Bertholdt’s cock, and down to his knees.

Bertholdt sighed, resting his head against the pillows. His body felt like it was on fire—the room was an inferno, and he felt seconds away from boiling over. His body shuttered at the feeling of cool fingers trailing down the inside of his thighs, warm breath panting over his dick. His tongue touching the tip, tasting him, before Jean’s mouth engulfed him. “Ugh,” he gasped a hand burring in Jean’s hair.

Should he feel bad about this?

At the feeling of someone’s lips wrapped around his cock. A mouth that wasn’t Reiner’s sucking him off.  He bucked his hips at the suction around the head, throwing his head back and ground his teeth together. It wasn’t like Reiner and he were in a relationship—right? Right.

And Jean wasn’t unattractive. He is attractive, even if he dyed his hair blonde. The blonde watched the older male from beneath full lashes, his hands feeling up the tanned chest and down Bertholdt’s legs. With each dip of his head, Bertholdt’s clothing would move a little further down his legs.  This wasn’t going quick enough—he needed more. “Back off for a second,” he hissed out through clenched teeth, his fingers tugging at the blonde strands. Jean licked from base to tip on last time before sitting back to watch the older teen.

He pulled his clothes the rest of the way down, forgoing that one _stupid_ sock that refused to leave his foot—and he wasn’t about to fight with it. Not when there were more important things to be seen to. Bertholdt threw Jean a smirk before rolling over onto his elbows, his knees bending. Jean gulped, “A—” his mouth opened and closed with a click.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” Bertholdt shook his head, that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

Jean pulled the cheeks apart and took a deep breath. He was actually going to do this. He kissed one of the pale globes of Bertholdt’s ass, his thumb teasing the ring of muscles. He nipped at the place that he had just kissed, his thumb circling the hole, pushing in with each rotation. “Fuck,” Jean cursed under his breath, his dick straining against the zipper of his pants. 

“Stop staring and—” Bertholdt sighed at the slick feeling of Jean’s tongue licking into him, “ _fuck me_.” His head dropped to his arms, his sweaty forehead rubbing against his arm. “Ah,” he panted fingers gripping the comforter. Jean’s tongue licked over the hole in the first stroke, on the second it dipped in, and on the third it pushed in. He shook his head side to side slowly, pushing further in. His thumb pushing in along with his tongue, then a finger. “I’m not gonna bre—” he keened at the feeling of additional fingers stretched him open, “—k. _Holy fuck,_ ah. Jean.”

Jean grinned, wiping the drool from his face on Bertholdt’s lower back; he nipped at the base of his spine. Fuck he was beautiful, or handsome—or whatever he wanted to be called. But image that was playing out in front of him—it was breathtaking. Bertholdt’s tanned skin flushed, his body shaking with pleasure and his _voice_. Every so often it would crack, and a groan would escape his lips when Jean would crook his fingers in a certain way. He leaned over the taller boy, fingers still buried to suck on the globe of the brunette’s ear. “Can—” Jean cleared his throat, it felt tight with arousal and disuse, “Can I?” he asked. He ground his clothed erection against Bertholdt’s hip—the senior grinned, nodding his head once.

The junior quickly rolled from the bed, Bertholt rolling onto his back to watch the blonde with a raised brow. Jean grinned, popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down slowly. “If you don’t hurry up I’ll finish this myself,” Bertholdt said, his other brow rising to the same level as the other.

Jean paused with a pout, “no fun,” the junior replied tilting his head to the side.

The brunette rolled his eyes, “have you done this before?” he inquired tucking an arm under his head and scratching his collar bone and bending his knee. In these kinds of circumstances weren’t you just supposed to fuck and duck out? He couldn’t understand the playfulness. Or the want to be playful anyways.

The smile that broke out on Jean’s face made Bertholdt’s heart skip on beat, “It doesn’t really matter—it’s you. It’s different.” Jean shrugged his smile soft and cheeks dusted with a pink hue. Bertholdt’s fingers flattened against his skin, his eyes widened at his confession. He felt exposed, and for once during this whole time he felt naked.

With Reiner it was just heat—just lust. He was used to the hard touches, the rough kisses, and the lack of the playful edge that sex between two people that _actually care about the other_ had. Everything that he had done with Reiner was rushed, and swept under the rug—or tucked in the preverbal closet.

Jean knelt between his thighs, caressing them—he couldn’t believe it still. Bertholdt was naked. He was naked. They were going to have _sex_.

Bertholdt threw an arm over his eyes; he allowed the younger male to position his body whichever way he wanted. Jean had only moved to hook his knee over his shoulder before he heard the bottle of lube opening and the tell-tale sign of the lubricate coating fingers—that pause after the sound and the deep intake of breath before they pushed in. Which they were doing right now.

It wasn’t the stretch that made the air from his lungs sound like a hiss as it left through clenched teeth, but more the fact that he was on his back. He’s never actually faced anyone while, well while they were fucking. But then again that was only with Reiner.

Again with Reiner.

Maybe he’ll be able to roll over again…

\----

“Where’s Bertl?” Reiner shouted at Annie, his body bending down to talk to her over the blasting music. His amber eyes searching the room, looking for the taller male—he wasn’t there, he had just checked a minute ago. She shrugged, an arm gesturing towards the room and her mouth moving. “I can’t hear you,” he shouted down at her. 

She closed her eyes with a sigh, “I haven’t seen him for a few hours—after you ditched us.” Reiner’s eyes narrowed down at her, his mouth opening to shout something back to her (most likely along the lines of, “I did not”.) “But someone said they saw Jean and Bert go upstairs,” she added with a shout, right before the next remixed song came up.

Reiner’s teeth ground together—jealously burning through his veins.

Reiner turned, halting when Annie gripped the back of his shirt. “What?” he snapped, couldn’t she see that he had to deal with a stupid junior who couldn’t grasp the fact that Bertholdt was _his._ It was an unspoken rule—or at least a rumor, which no one was to touch Bertlholdt, or both Annie and Reiner would kick the ever living shit out of them. Stupid twat.

Fuck he was mad.

“I know what going on Reiner.” Her hands gripped the fabric tighter, “stop fucking around and make up your mind. Bertholdt doesn’t deserve you stringing him along like a toy,” she shouted her eyes narrowing up at him to drive home a point.

Reiner turned to face her fully, “you don’t have a clue what’s going—”

Her hands moved to his collar and pulled so that his nose nearly touched hers, “do you think I’m stupid? We’re known each other since we were still shitting our pants. I think I know about my brothers to know when they’re fucking.” Her eyes glanced down to her hands, white knuckled and shaking, before she hardened her stare, “Reiner think about Bertholdt this once, and not yourself. Let him have this.”

Reiner stared back at her, his eyes softening briefly. Annie let out a sigh at that, and released the blonde from her hold. He was going to go to Bertholdt, no matter what she said. At least now she’ll let him taste something bitter to go along with it. Chalk one up for the power of guilt.

\----

How could they not notice—or not care, possibly.

Reiner glanced over his shoulder; no one was there to witness him close the door behind him as he joined the pair in the room. Bertholdt’s mouth slacked and head hung, with each thrust a huff left his lips. Reiner smirked; no one could make Bertholdt moan like him.

Bertholdt groaned, “Harder… fuck, Jean.” Reiner’s teeth ground together in aggravation, he wanted to strangle Jean. No one touched, or was supposed to touch Bertholdt other than _him_. The blonde senior pulled the shirt over his head and toed off his boots.

He was going to be a part of this, fuck any discomforts and mixed emotions. Jean was not going to have him. He wasn’t.

The blonde locked the door before moving to the bed. Jean leaned over the taller male, kissing right between his tanned shoulder blades. Reiner huffed, before leaning down to bite down on Bertholdt’s shoulder. Bertholdt moaned loudly, his eyes opening wide in shock. There was only one person that knew how much that affected him, and there was sucking an angry red mark on his skin. “I’m moving your arm,” Reiner warned, he didn’t have to worry about the brunette being rocked forward by the juniors thrusts. Jean had stopped and was watching with a confused look.

Bertholdt could only close his eyes and hope that this whole thing would be over and done with soon enough. This was quickly turning into the most embarrassing fuck that he’s ever had. When he opened his eyes, Reiner was staring over his shoulder with a smug smirk on his lips. He leaned up and licked up Bertholdt’s tanned neck. “You can continue,” he purred out, eyebrows raised in challenge at the junior.

 _He’s fucking taunting me,_ Jean thought while he ground his teeth together. Bertholdt threw a look over his shoulder, nodding his head. Signalling that yes, he was going to continue with this. Jean’s grip tightened and his hips pulled back before thrusting forward. _If Reiner wants a show, then I’ll give him one._ Jean leaned over the tanned male, mouthing at the back of his neck.

Jean and Reiner never looked away from each other.

With each thrust expelling little groans and pants, Reiner nipped at his best friend’s ear, sucking and pulling at the lope. Bertholdt sighed, felling Reiner’s fingers tangling through his hair and the other wrapping around his dick.

If someone earlier today would’ve told him that something like this would happen, Bertholdt would’ve punched them. Called them a liar, and maybe storm off. But here he was, sandwiched between two blondes glaring at each other over his shoulders as they tried to out due the other.

Should he say someone’s name during this, or should he just bite his lip and go with it?

Because who in their right mind would suddenly want to end this prematurely?

\----

Annie glared at the younger teen, his tall and stupidly freckled face grinning down at her. “So why where you so hell bent on keeping Reiner downstairs?” Marco tilted his head in question, his _stupid_ bangs hanging past his eyebrows and falling into his eyes. He needed to get his hair cut. It didn’t look good.  

“Jean and Bertholdt are fucking,” Marco choked at her blunt reply, “and Reiner is very protective.” _Possessive,_ Annie thought, _he’s very possessive over Bertholdt in these regards._ “I just looking out for the wellbeing of your friend,” she forced her lips up into a smile as she crossed her arms over her chest.

His stupid freckled cheeks puffed out as he smiled. His stupid chocolate coloured eyes closing and all that was missing was a tooth shine. Annie huffed, what was it about this guy that just irks her? “That’s sweet of you,” he replied.

Her heart didn’t just flicker.

It didn’t.


	2. Remembering of Times Long Ago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few days since that night and if anything it only fueled Reiner's annoyance, and prompts Jean to make a move. Meanwhile Bertholdt is reminded of a time years ago. And Annie sheds a tear or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter::
> 
> Suicide. Mentions of suicide and bullying leading to a character's death. No death shown as of yet. But still. 
> 
> I wanted to write this in memory of a girl named Freya, who was once a close friend. We lost touch and I regret it deeply. And I guess you can say the ending of this chapter for for me as well and a small thank you to my friends who were with me during my darkest times. Thank you.

That night started something for Bertholdt, and he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad one. On one hand he had gotten laid, on the other hand the way he went about it wasn’t ideal. He felt used, that he was betraying Reiner somehow. Even just looking a Jean from across the hall, or the cafeteria made that feeling of betrayal sharpen.

Annie slid into view, the pop can giving her movement away. “I invited lover boy and friends to join us,” she smirked cracking the top on her drink. Berthold startled nearly knocking over his drink. Annie grinned that twisted grin of hers. The one that pulled one side of her lips a little higher than the other and the saliva on her teeth would reflect whatever light that was near. Whenever he or Reiner would see it they would shrink and their minds would race. This was often referred to as “Annie’s Plot”, for the reason of it show casing that Annie was planning something. And when Annie planned something, sometimes it wasn’t the greatest for those involved.

Like in their first year of high school the quartet, before Reiner had gotten scooped up by the football team and his popularity skyrocketed. Back when the two of them, Annie and Bertholdt, got called losers and Reiner and Berik were insulted and ridiculed for hanging around them. When the foursome would get into fights and their peers didn’t look up to Reiner.

Berik was slim, fit and tall. Smaller than Bertholdt, and both Reiner and he were constantly arguing who was the tallest out of the two. Their growth spurts often following the other, and neither would be taller than the other for more than a week at a time.

But people were cruel.

People would find a source of light, and destroy it with everything that they had. Their sole goal to tear down a person until they could no longer continue. And that’s what they did. They targeted Berik, using his weakness… his compassion, against him. Using his friends to cut into him, using all their pain and their problems. The students used Berik’s own feeling against him, his guilt in being unable to end Annie and Bertholdt’s torment. But the worst of everything—of all the physical and the emotional trauma that Berik’s peers had made him question himself, his friends, and his very life.

They made him lose that happiness that he always seemed to have.

They made him weary of his friends… his family…

Berik never finished ninth grade. He never went to those _stupid_ end of the year dances that the high school liked to throw. Never went to a bush party, got smashed beyond recognition and never had to run from the cops when they crash it.

Instead, their foursome became a threesome.

Annie’s smile became twisted, became known as “Annie’s Plot” grin and that was the only kind of smile they normally saw—but there were those rare times where she’d loose herself and she’d laugh until she cried because of all those past moments that she couldn’t laugh. She became colder and hateful of this town and the people in it. Bertholdt became soft spoken, finding it easier to just shut down. He became shy, and scared and uncomfortable with himself. And, Reiner became that guy that wanted to help everyone, be friends with everyone, and the golden boy. Pressured by society to conform to their very demands—to be strong, to be the golden football player… to be straight.

“You’re frowning,” Annie stated her smile leaving her lips as she crossed her arms on the table. She stretched an arm out to tap her fingers against his wrist. Bertlholdt pulled the corner of his lips up to a small smile. Annie’s forehead creased further, “you’re bullshitting. Don’t try to pull that shit with me Bert, you know I don’t fall for that.”

Bertholdt sighed resting his head against his folded arms, “Berik,” he replied softly. “I just thought about Berik for a second there.” Annie squeezed his wrist in comfort. The blonde girl nodded before sweeping her thumb across the bone of his wrist.

“Should we come back some other time?” Marco set down his tray beside Annie and across from Jean who had just parked his ass beside the tanned senior. Both Annie and Bertholdt shook their heads in the negative, before Annie gripped the freckled teen and forced him to sit down beside her. “Hey, ouch. Watch the goods,” Marco hissed rubbing his thighs after impact.

Annie rolled her eyes at younger teen, pushing him with her boney elbow to the ribs. The boy groaned again clutching his side. The petite blonde girl curled her lips up in a _smile_. “That’s frightening,” Jean stated staring in awe at Annie’s lips. He wouldn’t call that a smile, more of a sneer that anything else. Too much teeth… and her lip was a little too far pulled up to be called a smile.

Bertholdt nodded, “Annie doesn’t really smile,” his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. More juniors joined them then—the trio of Mikasa, Eren and Armin choosing to sit right beside Annie. The blonde scowled at the dark haired girl beside her when their arms brushed and Mikasa stared back at her, her scowl matching the blonde’s. Bertholdt sighed, just another greeting between Annie and Mikasa.

“So that’s how Jean broke his arm in eighth grade,” Connie grinned at his girlfriend, Sahsa, as they sat beside Bertholdt.

Jean’s head snapped up in Connie’s direction, “Oi, what shit are you spouting this time?!” he growled, looking around Bertholdt to glare at the couple.

Connie grinned, “I was just telling Sasha the story of how you broke your arm before eighth grade and came to school with a bright orange cast on. And the first thing that Eren did when he saw it was draw a huge dick on it!” Eren grinned at the recollections of better times, back when things were simple and drawing dicks on people were cool.

“He has no shame, I mean yeah, I have a huge dick—” Bertholdt choked, the pop that he just brought to his lips shot out of his nostrils (and spewed from his lips). Annie cackled across from him, the spray just missing her. “—but you don’t see me going around and bragging about it!” Annie’s lips pulled up in _The Smile_ as she reached over to pat his hand that gripped the table top in silent shock.

“There there,” she muttered under her breath and over the roar of laughter coming from the rest of the table at both Bertholdt’s reaction and the content of what Jean had just said. A huge plate of fries were placed between the two, a huge gob of ketchup to one side. Bertholdt wiped at whatever trace the pop left behind before smiling up at the new arrival. “Food, glorious food,” Annie smirked dipping a fry into the red paste and taking a bite. Before dipping it back in again.

Ladies and gentlemen, Annie was a double dipper when it came to her and her French fries. Something about the potato to ketchup ratio wasn’t up to standard was constantly brought up when someone would call her on it. It wasn’t like the three of them haven’t shared drinks or food before. And as weird and gross as it might seem to others, the three of them didn’t really care about sharing food.

As long as it wasn’t chewed already.

They weren’t baby birds, or babies on those really fucked up parenting shows. Holy shit, were those shows ever _messed_!

Connie and Sasha shuffled down to make room for Reiner, the bulky blonde squeezing between his best friend (slash secrete lover) and worshiper. Okay, okay. That was a little farfetched, but Connie did look up to Reiner greatly. And at times showered him with praise, and of course tons of questions. Bertholdt’s personal favourite were the one pertaining to sex.

_“How do you know if a girl comes?”_ Connie: ninth grade.

_“Can you go blind from getting cum in your eye?”_ Connie: ninth grade.

_“Is it true that blowjobs can cure a sore throat?”_ Connie: tenth grade.

_“Can I go blind from masturbating too much?”_ Connie: eleventh grade.

_“What’s the best sex position?”_ Connie: ninth grade.

_“Do vaginas have teeth?”_ Connie: ninth grade.

_“Can you break your dick?”_ Connie: tenth grade. _“Wait, what!? Oh god, holy shit! No fucking way! That’s fucked!”_

_“Is it gay to say that you find another guy attractive even if you don’t wanna bone him?”_ Connie: eleventh grade.

_“What does BDSM stand for?”_ Connie: ninth grade.

_“What the fuck is a flogger?”_ Connie: tenth grade.

_“How does sex between two guys even work?”_ Connie: eleventh grade. _“I’m serious, like how do gay guys do it?”_

_“Does genital piercings make sex better or anything?”_ Connie: eleventh grade. 

And those were the first twelve that came to Bertholdt’s mind.

The tall senior dipped the tip of his fry into the ketchup before Annie and Reiner could consume it all. Bertholdt was a sucker for French fries, like mentioned previously. And Wednesday was the trios designated ‘Fry Day’, and today it was on Reiner.  Miss out on a chance at free food? No chance in Hell.

“So what had Bertholdt all flustered?” Reiner inquired right after Bertholdt jammed a fry into his mouth. The tanned senior choked, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Annie let out a loud dramatic sigh and hung her head down. “Bertl,” Reiner voiced slapping the back of his best friend’s back, “breathe Bertl.”

Annie’s shoulders shook in a silent laugh.

“We were just debated over Jean’s dick size,” Eren snickered; a comment was already waiting to be added.

“Didn’t know you had one Kirstein,” Reiner sneered over Bertholdt’s hunched back, his hand rubbing up and down the other’s spine almost lovingly. Jean glared back at the blonde, his lip curling into a snarl. Annie let out a strangled sound before a laugh broke free. Her shoulders shaking and cheeks flush.

Marco shared down at her, his mouth hanging open, “are you alright there Annie?” The blonde girl slapped her hand on the table before she leaned her forehead against the table top. Across from her Bertholdt buried his face in his hands and debated the possibility of being able to escape under the table. But Bertholdt’s foot was between Jean’s, their legs rubbing against each other, and Reiner’s hand was rubbing up his spine—it wasn’t looking like an easy escape.

“Just look at those two idiots!” she wheezed between giggles, water gathering at the corner of her eyes from the force of her laughter. She gestured to bother Jean and Reiner in a sweep of her wrist, while her other hand wiped at her tears.

The mechanical chimes—or bells, rang signalling the end of lunch and Bertholdt had never been so happy to go to class in his life. The mostly eaten fries sat in the middle of the table as Bertholdt all but leaped from Reiner and Jean’s grasp to run from the cafeteria. Which, in other words, Bertholdt did just that.

Run from the table that is.

\--

It was the break between one class and the other where Jean approached Bertholdt. “Hey,” the junior grinned, his hand scratching at the back of his neck.

Bertholdt shut his locker and greets the smaller teen with a small smile, “Hi” he replied tucking his books under one arm and his other hand reached down to play with his belt that was digging into his hip. His grey eyes dropped down to his shoes before moving back up to focus on the junior’s jaw. “Sorry about what happened at lunch,” Bertholdt voiced, wincing at the lack of anything else to say.

Jean shrugged, “no harm done.” The conversation paused then, and both feel into an awkward silence. With each second their faces would deepen in a flush, ranging from pale pink to crimson red in the matter of a minute. “So I was wondering—” Jean began with a nervous rub to his jaw, the very spot that Bertholdt was focused on. “—if you wanted to come over for dinner… like tonight,” he paused his eyes widening, “or you know, whenever is good too!”

Jean chuckled to himself, a broken nervous laugh that told Bertholdt quite a bit on how this whole situation was affecting the younger male. And he found it… endearing… that someone was nervous to _ask him out_. No one had ever asked him out before, or y’know, wanted to date him.

Both boys jumped when the bell sounded over their heads.

Jean sighed, chest fallen, and turned to leave to go to his next class. “Tonight sounds good,” Jean turned back around his lips pulling up into a wide grin and Bertholdt couldn’t help but smile back. Bertholdt took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Jean to add his information in. The whole time Jean was punching in his digits that smile of his would stretch wider and wider on his face.

“Text me so I can add you, kay?” Jean handed back the phone and Bertholdt nodded.

Once seated in his next class, Bertholdt pulled out his phone and texted **‘Jean’**.

**B.F:** It’s Bertholdt.

And he stuffed his phone back into his pocket before the teacher walked in to begin the class.

\--

_ Annie, Berik, Bertholdt, Reiner:: Ninth Grade—March 19th _

Sometimes there were signs that someone could just tell something was wrong. With Berik it was with the good-byes. There were signs that people could pick up on pertaining to suicide. And saying your farewells were one of them.

**Facebook Status:** _Everything went quiet. I don’t know how to feel about that. But then again it is late…_

**Facebook Status:** _Bye_

**Bertholdt Fubar:** _Berik don’t._

It was then that Berik picked up the phone and called Reiner, the phone rang three times before Reiner picked up. His voice pinched and a yawn escaped his mouth as he yawned. _“’ello?”_ he drawled out after his yawn.

“Hey Reiner, sorry for waking you. I didn’t think you’d actually go to bed before two,” one corner of his lip twitched upwards. Reiner yawned out that he didn’t mind, and Berik bit his lip in thought. “Do you hate those kids that cause us problems?”

_“Well I don’t like them,”_ Reiner replied, Berik could hear him roll over in his bed before he heard Reiner’ head hit the pillow again. _“I just think that they need to think about other people instead of just themselves and think about how their actions are affecting everyone else around them.”_

Berik caressed the razor in his hand as he listened to the blonde speak. “If you could, would you show them how to?” Berik felt butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his hands shook with nerves. “On Monday you should start looking out for people—cause a lot of kids get picked on and I don’t want them to go through the same things that our group is dealing with. People look up to you Reiner, they always have and they most likely always will. So use that to better humanity.”

Berik heard the blonde on the other end move again, _“what’s going on Berik?”_

Berik shook his head his hand gripping the razor tighter, “I’ve just been thinking. And one of the essays that I just handed in dealt with something a little like this… so I wanted to do my part and help change something.” He felt dirty for lying to his best friend, but he wasn’t going to tell him. He couldn’t tell him. Didn’t want to worry him. Nothing was said for a few moments and all Berik could hear was Reiner breathing. Maybe he went back to sleep? Berik sighed the corner of his mouth pulling up again, “Bye Reiner.”

_“Hey Berik,”_ Reiner’s voice sounded just before he was going to hang up and the dark haired boy brought his phone back to his ear. His heart pounded loudly, _“let’s hang out tomorrow. We’ll go see that movie that Annie was talking about a while ago—maybe even drag those two out too. You know Annie and how she gets on the weekends, have to fight to get her out of her room!”_ Berik swallowed thickly, _“Maybe go paintballing—we haven’t gone paintballing in months.”_

Berik closed his eyes tightly, “maybe. Well, good night Reiner. Sorry for waking you.” And he hung up the phone before Reiner could say anything else. Facebook was beeping at him it the flow of new messages.

                **Bertholdt Fubar:** _Berik tell me what’s going on._

**Bertholdt Fubar:** _I’m serious Berik, please tell me. I’m not going anywhere._

There were comments appearing on his facebook status, all from Bertholdt. He closed his eyes and dialed the next number. He curled onto his bed tucking his knees under his chin, “ _This is Annie. Leave a message.”_ The lone girl in their foursome wasn’t picking up her phone—but Berik wasn’t surprised, Annie hated her phone… she hated cellphones in general. And at times text messages won’t be answered till the next day.

“Annie—” he began swallowing thickly. “Look after Bertholdt and Reiner. They’re idiots at times, but they mean well. I trust that you’ll help kick their asses into place and continue on with the plan that we started since grade school when you and I first found out about their crush on each other. I need you to continue on fighting, if there was anyone that could do it it’ll be you. You’re so strong Annie and you’re still so caring even through everything that you’ve had to deal with. I admire your strength, Little Lion. And I’m proud to call you one of my best friends.” He could feel the tears at the corner of his eyes trail down his cheeks, “please don’t cry for me. I’ll watch over you—all of you.”

“Take care of our boys, Little Lion.” He hung up the phone and set it beside his pillow as he caught his breath. The razor in his palm was starting to dig into his flesh, it was hurting. He was hurting, and he wanted it to end. Just one more phone call and it’ll be over. Nothing will hold him back then.

                **Bertholdt Fubar:** _Berik, call me._

And Berik did. 


	3. The Youth of Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's sister was weird, at first glance she was a typical thirteen year old girl... the next she was a clinging blood sucking leech. And lets not even mention the fluffy dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Busy writing essays, this is pretty much as far as I can go with this chapter. Sorry guys, more angst ahead. And then actual dates.

His hands clutched the steering wheel, fingers tapping along to the music that played on the speakers. When he informed both Annie and Reiner that he wasn’t going to be home for a few hours, Annie had tapped her nose and winked. And Reiner steamed. Surprisingly, to Bertholdt, Reiner kept his mouth shut though.

Bertholdt pulled up to the house, the families dogs came over, barking all the way. Two Great Pyrenees dogs stood to great him when he opened the door, pocketing his keys. Their deep barking catching the attention of a woman who called out to the dogs to silence them. Bertholdt smiled lightly keeping his hands by his side to let the dogs decide if they wanted to sniff him or not. “Come on in sweetie,” the woman called from the window again and pointed to the door on the side. Bertholdt scratched the back of his neck and made his way to the door, the two huge fluffy dogs were hanging around him matching each step that he took with one of their own.

When he reached the house, one of the dogs barked, the senior shook his fondly before walking in. A woman behind the counter turned and smiled at him, “you must be Bertholdt.” Her light brown hair pulled up into a loose bun on the top of her head. She had a curved body, and wore loose clothes. But she looked happy, and Bertholdt got the sense of content as she handled the knife in her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you ma’am,” Bertholdt replied, his eyes taking in the kitchen as he toed off his shoes. “Where would you like me to put my shoes?”

“There is fine—” the woman turned her back to him, stirring the contents in the pan, “I hope you’re not allergic to anything.” Bertholdt shook his head; he wasn’t—at least to his knowledge.  Bertholdt slowly made his way from the door to the island where the woman was working. He peered over to watch her chop. He always liked how smooth the knife would move. That’s the one thing that he loved about cooking—the prep work before the meal where you had to chop all the things you needed and you could just lose yourself to the routine. The movement of the blade rocking on the cutting board.

“Do you need some help?” he asked shyly, looking up from the cutting board to the woman.

The knife stilled as the woman glanced up at the teenager, “thank you dear, but I’m almost done. Why don’t you go make yourself at home, Jean should be back from his chores soon.” Bertholdt looked around nervously; this was always the worst part about meeting anyone’s family—being left alone with them for the first time.

Bertholdt moved sluggishly into the next room, the doors in this area where more like arches, dividing the rooms but not stopping the flow from one to the other. The kitchen and dining room connected to a large room divided by an arch. The room he was in looked more like a sitting room, a computer desk tucked into the corner and a large book case along the wall with the door way he just came through. On the other side of the arch sat a girl, her gum popping as she stared at the curious teen. “Are you Jean’s boyfriend?” she asked, her fingers tapping out a text on her cell phone.

His cheeks broke out in a deep red colour, “no, we’re just…” an image flashed in his head followed by Reiner’s voice, “we’re just friends.” He turned his attention to the other couch were a third dog laid staring up at him. It cocked its head to the side and slowly got off the couch in a long stretch. “Just how many dogs do you guys have?” the senior question as the dog sniffed his hand.

The girl looked up from her phone, “well that’s Ruby; Nova and Gregory were the two idiots that you must have met outside.  Then there’s Tori, and Bruta who went with Dad and Jean. And then there’s Ren, and Frost who stay out with the sheep.” She ticked them off with her fingers each time she mentioned a name. “Ruby’s the mum and Ren is the father to all of them.”

Bertholdt scratched the back of his neck and sank into the couch, his legs stretching out as he tried to make his body relax. He was not a people person, and this conversation was a little too awkward for him. The girl looked up from her phone, “were you at that party that Jean threw here? Cause every time someone mentions it my brother gets all flustered. Its embarrassing, what could he have gotten into that would make him blush that much?”

Bertholdt stared at her blankly, “just how old are you?”

The girl smiled, “I’m thirteen! And how old are you?” Okay, so she was older than Bertholdt originally thought, but still. How can she expect him to answer something like that, and just how exactly does she expect him to answer with?

“Do you even know what happens at parties?” He realized that he was avoiding the question, but really, what sibling actually wants to know about their family members sex life? Maybe she just wanted to use it against him? Ugh, siblings were weird. Bertholdt was thankful that he only had Annie who was like a sister, without all the weirdness of being actual siblings. Would have made that whole kissing thing in grade school really messed up.

“People get drunk; they have sex, and become really fucking stupid—”

“LANGUAGE!” the girl’s mother yelled from the kitchen. The girl jumped and curled into herself as she whispered a soft apology. Bertholdt flinched as well, his hand curling into a fist.

“Why do you want to know what your brother was up to?” Bertholdt asked once the shock wore off.

“So I can blackmail him,” she grinned wide, her cheerful mood returning.

The front door banged open, and two boys groaned, “Dad stop.” Another voice joined the two and they argued back and forth. “No, stop you’re not funny,” that must have been Jean’s younger brother who spoke. The girl in front of Bertholdt wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and nodding towards the voices in the other room.

“Tell me all your secretes~” she cooed climbing over to the couch that Bertholdt was resting on. He scooted away from her, “you never did answer my questions,” she mused leaning into his space. Her grey eyes narrowing as he stared back at her. “How old are you?”

He leaned back away from her approaching face, “I’m eighteen.”

“He’s too old for you Elise, bugger off.” And there he was. Jean himself, in all his dyed blonde and snarky glory. Bertholdt has never been happier to see him than right at that moment. Hazel eyes settled on the older teen, and he smiled. “Is my sister giving you trouble?”

Elise huffed crossing her arms over her chest, “your boyfriend is no fun. At least Marco gives me good blackmail material, this one just keeps moving away from me.” Bertholdt leaned further away from her as she demonstrated, “see! Look at that! He’s no fun!”

Jean sighed, “Let’s go upstairs Bertholdt, before my sister gives you nightmares.”

\--

Jean had grabbed a shirt from his closet before declaring that he was going to go change. And that he smelt like horse, or something along those lines. Bertholdt flopped back onto the blonde’s bed with a heavy sigh, inhaling the aroma of the room—or more specifically, the bed. Smelt a bit like leather, a little like old spice, like cinnamon. And when he rolled over, buried his nose into the sheets with his feet and legs hanging over the edge of the bed, did he smell the unmistakable musk of sex.

His cheeks burned at the memories.

They fucked on this very bed, on top of this very comforter. Bertholdt scooted up to the pillows; he wanted to smoother himself with the fluffy cloud like _things_. What the hell was Jean’s bed even made of? His bed at home was a tad softer than the floor, Reiner’s creaked like a sonofabitch, and in one spot you could feel a spring digging into your kidney. The only bed that Bertholdt had slept in that was comfortable was Annie’s. But having her kicking or hitting him was less than enjoyable. Between Annie’s sleep kick-boxing, Reiner’s snoring, and Bertholdt’s _odd_ (that’s putting it lightly) sleep positions it was a surprise that they could get any sleep when they would all pile into one of their beds. With Bertholdt sandwiched between the two blondes, more like restrained by their limbs.

He felt like he could just fall asleep right then and there, and he must have even just for a minute. ‘Cause when he opened his eyes the next time, it was to a pair of lips kissing up the back of his neck and damp hair tickling his ear. “Hm?” Bertholdt groaned turning to get a glance at the younger boy.

Jean flopped down beside him and lolled his head to the side to smile at the tanned teen, “I wasn’t gone for that long.” His eyes lingered on Bertholdt’s lips before moving back up to his eyes. He moved closer to the dark haired boy, throwing an arm over his back and brushing their noses together.

It felt butterflies were fluttering against his insides, and his face heated at he thought. Bertholdt swallowed those feelings down though, “I was comfortable,” he mumbled staring back at the younger male. Jean smile soften as his hand rubbed up and down Bertholdt’s back. “What’s that look for?” Jean’s lips brushed against his in reply.

“I’m happy that you actually came. That we’re not having that awkward ‘don’t touch me, don’t look at me, and don’t talk to me’ faze.” Jean pecked his lips again before leaning away, giving the older boy so space. “I’ve already been threatened by Annie… so I guess that’s a good thing.”

The dark haired boy groaned rolling over to his side to face the other, “what did she say?” He tucked his arm under his head and willed himself to wake up quicker—before Jean decided to kiss him again, maybe? (Maybe this time he wanted to be able to kiss him back? Or maybe even kiss him first?) Bertholdt was starting to like the idea of kissing—with Reiner they’d never really did too much of it. And most of them were quick, sloppy, and forceful. Like everything else they’ve done as well.

But looking at Jean, right this second, Bertholdt felt… _important_. Like it mattered, and that he mattered—and this wasn’t about sex. Wasn’t about getting off or that thrill of getting caught. They weren’t hiding. Jean was openly showing that he was interested—in front of his family, his friends, Bertholdt’s friends… the school. It… it was nerve racking. Having someone openly liking you was nerve racking. It made him uncomfortable, but in a nice way. A way that he could see himself getting used to one day.

“That if I hurt you in anyway she’d sick Reiner on me,” Jean’s face cracked into another wide grin and he began to laugh. “You should’ve been there; it’s hard to explain the look that she gave me. And the look she threw at Marco,” the junior shook his head. Bertholdt couldn’t help but smile. If there was ever a time that Bertholdt wanted to kiss someone, now would’ve been that time. Jean’s face flushed, lips curled up in a grin and the rise and fall of his chest as he laughed. _He’s attractive_ , Bertholdt couldn’t help but think.

 _Do it you pansy_ , Annie would’ve told him.

He would’ve. He totally could have. But, Jean’s younger siblings came running in and diving onto the bed—onto them. “So what are we laughing about?” Elise grinned wrapping her arms around her brother’s and The Guest.  Her face rubbing against Jean’s collar bone, “Mum sent us up to tell you dinner’s ready… and to be cockblocks. Are we interrupting?”

The youngest Kirstein son propped his head up, unlike the sister; he was only half on one of the older teens.  The Guest, he was laying on The Guest. His boney hip digging into Bertholdt’s side as he shifted. Jean’s younger brother smiled, “Fredrick. You’re Bertholdt right?” Bertholdt nodded. “I’m going to apologize now for our family. We don’t quiet grasp the concept of personal space—nor do we care to.”

Bertholdt shook his head, “its fine. I’m used to things far worse than some thirteen year old asking about the sex life of her older brother.” Elise flushed, oh so she didn’t want her brother knowing about what she was asking?

“You little shit,” Jean hissed wrapping an arm around her neck and holding her there.

“Jean~, no no nonono, Jean let me go!” She whined, squirming and kicking to free herself.

“Freddie, get her!” Fredrick tickled his sister’s ribs.

\--

Jean’s older sister was away at college. She was a year and a bit older than Bertholdt. Pretty; had their father’s height, and mother’s wide hips. Dark brown hair and the hazel eyes that all the siblings seemed to share. Over dinner they spoke of her, Elise would bring her up every once in a while—saying that she would totally want to meet you Bertholdt. And something along the lines of tickle torture to get information out of him.

To which Bertholdt calmly replied that he wasn’t ticklish. That he grew out of it a long time ago. He didn’t elaborate any future, but his ears did turn a little pink. Elise tried to worm it out of him though—and the senior simply smiled.

\--

There were three more days until March 19th.


	4. Built it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all thought that she was so strong, and she was. Just not all the time. She was tired, so very tired of being strong. But it wasn't the 19th, she wouldn't allow herself to cry until the 19th. But she did anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one's a little short. I gave you smut though, well I gave you some smut! 
> 
> And I got a little emotional while writing this a realized that it'll be easier to divide it up into two parts. 
> 
> Part 1: Build it Up (everything before)  
> Part 2: Tear it Down (day's 18, 19, and 20)

**Bertholdt Fubar:**   _Berik, call me._

Berik was scared, and blood was starting to fall from his clenched hand that held the razor. But he had one more person, just one more person to talk to and then he’ll be free. Freed from horrible comments, the looks, the guilt, the pain… he just wanted to be free of it all. His hand shook as he brought it up to his face. It ran once. “Berik, what’s going on?” Bertholdt worried.

Berik stared down at the floor, he body slowly lowering to the carpet. “I hate this Bert, I actually found something to hate. Can you believe that? I hate this feeling, and I hate not being able to feel. I hate how all these people at school join in and laugh at anything without even knowing what the others are laughing about. They’re all sheep, Bertl.” Berik shook his head, “they’re all fucking sheep.” A sob broke out and he bit his knuckles.

“Berik, I’m coming over—alright? I’ll be right there,” Bertholdt’s voice panicked and he could hear the other boy moving around on the other end of the phone.

“It’s fine,” _please don’t come_ , “I-…Reiner likes you. He really does, it’s only going to be a matter of time before he tells you.” _Stay away Bertholdt, I don’t want you to see the sad person I’ve become. Remember me as someone strong… not…_

“Tell me when I get there, I’m about to leave now.”

“Bertholdt, listen to me. Please… just listen,” Berik heard nothing but heavy breathing on the other end.

\--

Marco sat beside the hunched figure, her wrist flicking at the end of every second sentence she wrote. It was obvious that her wrist was starting to bother her. “How are you Annie?” he inquired, still watching her. He found her intensity, and her ability to focus on the paper in front of her captivating. The look in her eyes showing that she wasn’t completely there, just enough to be aware of what she was doing.

He reached out numbly and brushed the blonde hair out of his view of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Annie blinked, eyes narrowing at the freckled teen. Her cheek tingled where he brushed against it, “what are you doing?”

Marco flushed drawing his hand back and scratched at his jaw “thought that it’ll be annoying to have your hair in the way.” His cheeks darkened and his eyes dropped to the paper in front of the blonde. He coughed, “S-so, what are you writing?” he gestured to it, avoiding her gaze.

Annie shook her head, _stupid boy_ , she thought with a small smirk on her lips. “A rough draft for an essay,” Annie shrugs. “Teacher wants it by tomorrow… but, I’m not going to be there.” She looked down at her hands and leaned away from the table.

Marco pulled out his phone glancing down at the date, “tomorrow’s the 18th,” he spoke pocketing the device. _Oh. It’s the 18 th, _Marco thought as the date finally settled. Of course Annie wasn’t going to be at school that day. Annie nodded. The boy looked down at her hands, they were shaking. He wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulder and brought her to his chest. “Can I do anything to help?”

It wasn't the 19th; she wouldn't allow herself to cry until the 19th. Safe with her two brothers and tucked away in a little corner of the cemetery. Where they’ll call her their little lion as she mourned for her other brother.

These boys were her family.

Berik was her family, and they killed him. She hated them; she hated them so _fucking_ much.

The pen in her hand dropped to his lap as she gripped onto his stupid brand-named sweater. “If you tell anyone about this I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass,” she whispered, attempting to save face. Tears gathered on her lashes.

These boys will be the death of her.

His other arm curled around her back, “I won’t tell a soul.” Her shoulders shook under his arms, and he could feel the fabric of his shirt moisten around his collar. If this was the only way that he could help her, then he’d sit here silently holding her like this until she pushed him away. After all, he was known for giving some pretty damn good hugs.

Everyone was entitled to a moment of weakness, and Annie was no exception. She cried, she cried even though it wasn’t the 19th and she wasn’t wrapped in the arms of her brothers. She cried in the arms of this _stupid_ boy, where he pressed his lips to her hair and tucked her hair behind her ear. Over and over again until she was strong enough to continue on.

Because Annie was strong; she was strong for herself and she was strong for her brothers because they needed her too.

She was their little lion.

\--

Reiner wrapped an arm around Bertholdt’s shoulders dragging him back down to the bed, his lips brushing against the darker teen’s ear before he nipped at it. “Tell me about your time at Jean’s,” the blonde mumbled against the other`s skin.

“He has these fluffy white dogs,” Bertholdt groaned out as the blonde kissed down his neck. The tanned teen removed his shirt with less prodding than usual as Reiner proceed to kiss down his chest and unbuckling his companion’s pants as he went.

Reiner hummed out an acknowledgement, “I have a dog too. Don’t tell me you don’t love Colt anymore, you’ll break his little heart.” Bertholdt’s hips rose as pale hands pushed both his pants and boxers down his legs and off completely. The blonde kissed his best friend’s hip, amber eyes grinning up at the other. Bertholdt threw him a smile, his fingers ghosting over the other’s jaw.

“Don’t be like that,” Bertholdt replied. Reiner chuckled taking the tip of Bertholdt’s dick in his mouth, his tongue pressing flat against the heated flesh and he moved lower. His cheeks hollowing as he gave it a long suck, his tongue pressing against the vein along the underside. Bertholdt’s hips bucked, pressing against the arm the blonde threw over his hips just moments before, his other hand reaching down to fondle the tan teen’s balls. “Ah!” he panted head falling to his pillow, his back arching and knee bending.

Reiner chuckled pulling off with a pop, “don’t be like what?” his voice husked his amber eyes glanced over as he stared up through his lashed. His hand pumping the dick by his cheek as he continued to stare up at his friend.

“D-don’t be a dick,” he panted out as he glanced down at the other. Reiner shook his head, grunting it acknowledgement before wrapping his lips around the head and sucking.

\--

It was ten at night when the boys rolled into her bed, shucking their pants moments before sandwiching her. Bertholdt taking her left side while Reiner taking her right. They smelt of the same body wash. She knew just what they’ve been up to. But she wasn’t going to comment on it—until the time that this _relationship_ of theirs starts to fall apart is when she’ll comment on it.

How unfair they were being to each other. How Reiner was being a dick.

Since Berik, Reiner had stopped coming to them to talk about problems, and about feelings. She wasn’t too sure who he talked to anymore. He knew way too many people; she had lost count years ago. She knows Bertholdt doesn’t hear about these inner thoughts of Reiner. Or this whole relationship they’ve been having wouldn’t be happening. It may actually be real.

Or official, that was what people called it. Facebook official even.

The boys, her boys, threaded their limbs through hers. Bertholdt’s head resting on her shoulder, his hand holding hers and leg thrown over both of his other two bed companions; Reiner’s lips pressed into her hair, his legs trapping her ankle while his arm rested heavily over her stomach.

She could be strong for them here. Hidden away from the world. Wrapped in her blankets, the comfort of a nice home, and a comfortable bed. A grim thought hanging over them, a reminder of the past and the future.

She could feel Bertholdt’s breath even on her collar bone, his dark hair caressing her jaw as she shifted. Her body sluggish as she settled, closing her eyes again. Reiner was awake, his lips moving as he thought. No, as he whispered into her hair.

“I can’t help but feel useless after Berik. That no matter what I do it’ll never been good enough.”

She fell asleep to that, her agreement going unsaid as she slipped into sleep.


	5. March 18th and 19th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start off by saying that I'm extremely sorry that this took so long. I've written and rewritten and just deleted so many parts of this chapter that it wasn't completely what I was originally writing. This chapter had me face a lot of my own triggers, and although I didn't write much of them, there is still that over all aura of something lingering over head and that's what I was going for in the end more so than anything.
> 
> This chapter is over all supposed to make to think: gray. Its that feeling of depression that lingers overhead, and that lingers in the corner of your vision.
> 
> I've had to write this story while feeling that 'gray' and that's what has been the most difficult. Being able to go there and come back time and time again. I've had to take months breaks in between because of it. And I've tried staying away from this chapter while writing exams and tests and essays. Which was most of this past year of school.
> 
> But finally, with Summer break I was finally able to power through this thing. And I might have the 20th in the beginning of the next chapter, but from here on it should be a lot easier for me to write... y'know, until I started getting mean to the characters again (if you've read anything I've written you can see some hints on just where this could go).
> 
> But anyways, thank you for waiting and I hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> All mistakes are my own, and I will be doing a formal editing at a later date (I have done a few read threws so its not as bad as it could've been)

Every March 18th, the trio would pile into one of their cars and drive out to the middle of nowhere where Berik’s family home is. A dairy farm sitting alone in that ideal picture of that farm life—you know the one. The one with that red barn and beautiful farm house, with nothing but open fields around it. That image would falter though; there were trees on the property, big beautiful oaks.

And the cows of course.

You never see too many landscape paintings with that little detail.

The trio would shuffle onto the front porch, greeting the woman that had helped raise them. She would peak out through the window, smiling as she would let them in. With heavy hearts they would wrap her into an embrace and kissing her cheek. She would smile at them and shoo them to the table, where she’d call her daughter Ymir to come grab a plate of food so that they can start breakfast.

The trio’s parents and guardians would be joining them for dinner. After all, they were still a family. Nothing would ever change that.

But every year, on the day after Berik’s anniversary, the trio would sit in Bertholdt’s basement watching Lord of the Rings. And every year they would think to themselves, _one of these years I won’t show up. One of these days it’ll just be too much._

But that was not this year.

This year the trio of Bertholdt, Reiner and Annie had piled into Annie’s little car, with Annie throwing the boys her keys. “Bertholdt kneed me twice during the night. I’m crashing in the back,” she mumbled pulling her hood over her head and closing her eyes. They were used to this by now; Annie just didn’t want to make the drive out there. It made her stomach real queasy. They quickly learned that after a Halloween where she had driven half way there and ended up pulling over and puking along the side of the road.

They don’t mention it.

They never mention it—they also didn’t think about it. It was just one of those memories that were just repressed by all that were involved.

Bertholdt caught the keys with a raised brow at Reiner, silently asking him if he wanted the keys instead. Reiner shook his head before climbing into the tiny car only buckling up when Bertholdt had slid into the driver’s seat. He could tell that his dark haired companion was nervous, hell Reiner was nervous and Annie was obviously a wreck. Her hood strings drawn tight with only a bit of hair and her nose poking out to breathe. If someone outside their family saw her now they would think that she’s tired, or that she was sleeping. She wasn’t—she wouldn’t sleep most likely until the 20th. When everything was over with and she was cocooned in blankets and two sets of limbs.

They pulled onto the road easily enough, not really having to think about much of anything. Reiner had turned the radio on to cut through the silence, some rock song coming from the speakers. No one spoke the whole ride over.

Not as Bertholdt turned onto their road. Not even as they pulled into their long driveway, with the fenced in field to their right.

Their stomachs in their throats as the car slowed to a stop, their hearts beating wildly and deafening in their ears as they were greeted by the dogs. The black beasts wiggling violently in their excitement as they herd the three teenagers up to the front door and even then they licked their hands and arms. “Hey there kids,” the woman smiled opening the door to the teenagers.

The woman wrapped an arm around Reiner’s shoulders first pecking his cheek in greeting before moving to the next blonde. Annie wrapped both arms around the woman’s back buried her nose in the junction between neck and shoulder and breathed in the smell. Annie’s shoulders dropped when the woman wrapped her arms around her, like a puppet who’s strings has finally been cut. “Hello little lion, you’ve been taking great care over these boys. I’m so proud of you,” she whispered against Annie’s forehead. Annie slowly pulled away from the woman to stand beside Reiner, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest.

“I can’t breathe past your moobs,” she whispered.

He chuckled, “ssh,” and petted her hair. “They’re full of secretes, that’s why they’re just so big.” Annie snorted, shaking her head at his stupidity. And the fact that she knew just _what_ secrete he's been hiding.

Bertholdt gave the woman a tight-lipped smile, allowing her to hug him as well.

He hated this part most of all. It always made him remember how he couldn’t save her son. How he didn’t drive here soon enough. How he didn’t climb up that tree in the front yard and into Ymir’s room quick enough. How he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he _flew_ to Berik’s side and how he tried to wrap his hands around the self-inflicted wounds. How he felt Berik’s skin cool. How he couldn’t explain how he got to the house, illegally, in fifteen minutes.

He hated being reminded of the things that he told Ymir, and how he watched her tremble and cry as she held her little brother. Hated remembering telling the older teen everything. From the beginning and how her brother’s depression started to the end with the phone call. And how that phone call made something click in the back of his head.

He hated remembering apologizing.

_I’m sorry I couldn’t get here fast enough._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t help him._

_I’m sorry I didn’t say the right things to make him say._

_I’m sorry…_

_I’m sorry…_

_I’m sorry._

The trio didn’t stay in the kitchen for very long, being shooed off to the table where Ymir already sat. She was already digging in; a hungry University student waits for no one. “Hey Fat Ass,” Annie mumbled sitting beside the brown haired girl.

“Hey Blondie Cunt,” Ymir replied back.

Both girls winked at each other before focusing back onto their task—food.

Breakfast finished quickly after that. No one really speaking to the other, other than the whole “pass this” or “pass that, please” and the occasional small talk that was answered with an equally short answer. Ymir’s mother divided up the responsibilities that the trio would be preforming for the day. Not one to look at gift horse in the mouth after all.

The three quickly piled their plates in the kitchen and left the house to do what was needed of them. They worked for hours; cleaning this and that. Raking up whatever leaves they found as well—whatever that was asked of them, the trio did.

Working and working and more working, only stopping for bathroom breaks and that lunch break around one. Ymir slinked around, standing near the trio as they preformed the tasks in a well paced ease that came with knowing what needed to be done but not wishing to power through it. And why would they when all that waited for them afterwards was sad smiles and silence.

And even though no one blamed him, Bertholdt still felt that this whole thing was his fault. He was the one that didn't act quick enough, he was the one that didn't piece the clues together before it was too late. Everyone told him that he did as much as he could—no one's to blame, and if there were he wouldn't be it. But still... still. He was the last person to talk to Berik for a reason, there had to be a reason.

There always was!

Berik always did that sort of important things for a reason.

The day passed quickly, too quickly for the children. No matter how much they had tried to draw out the chores it would still be done before dinner and then everyone would be there, and then they would go back to Reiner's to grab a couple of drinks and pass out on the futon in the basement before going to the graveyard the next day and spending the whole time day there.

That's what always happened, well the drinking was slightly new.

The cars crawled up the drive way causing the dogs to pick up barking to announce their guests arrival. The teens (and Ymir who technically was still considered a teen, even if she was closer to twenty than anything) were ushered into the house to quickly wash up and get ready for dinner. Bertholdt hands covered in the foam as he eyed his two other companions crowded around the bathroom sink.

The tanned male slapped the foam against Reiner's face, smearing the soap along his poorly shaven cheek and over his crooked nose with a small smile. Annie snorted into the back of her hand as Reiner grunted with a disgruntled look. “You son of a bitch,” he muttered wiping at the foam, a grin gracing his lips before he grabbed the cup by the tap and filling it.

“Reiner no,” Bertholdt pleaded holding his hands up in surrender, the glass now full and a glint in the blond's eyes spoke no mercy. “Reiner no,” he tried again against his better judgement. Which was to run, run fast and far away from the situation. The water dowsed his face, catching part of his hair and even up his nose before gravity carrying it down to his shirt.

Annie continued to snicker in the background, holding a towel by the door when the boys decided to flick water at each other. It made her heart clench to watch them be idiots again in this house, it always did when they came here. It always hurt to laugh, or enjoy themselves in this house without Berik here with them to join in.

_And that might never change,_ Annie thought as she handed the boys the towel to dry off once they actually cleaned up. The trio left the bathroom, Reiner's arm wrapped around her shoulder as he lead her from one room to the other. Their parents already sitting around the table, fluttering around with plates and wine glasses.

“Is there anything else I can grab for you, darling?” Bertholdt's mother chimed in as she set down a large bowl of mixed garden salad. The teenagers took their seats at the table while the adults settled in with their wine and the food. Plates and cutlery distributed amongst those at the table. Berik and Ymir's mother settled down at the table with the last of the food.

“No need, that's the last of it,” she gave her friend a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Those sitting around the table straightened in their seats, hands clasping together in front of them. The woman smiled at the guests gathered around the table, “I would like to thank you all for coming today. As much as I wish this tradition didn't exist, I know Berik would've wanted us to all look out after one another and remain close. I feel so very grateful, each and every year, that my son has friends so dedicated and caring as you,” the woman grasped at both Annie and Reiner's hands before letting go of the blond boy's so she could hold Bertholdt's.

“I hope that one day this day would hurt less, for us and for you,” she stared at her husband, a small forced smile pulling at her lips. “And I hope that you all come visit again, soon. But tell me first, I'll make sure I'll send you home with some goodies,” she shook her head and a huff escaped her lips. “I know that's what Berik would've wanted. He would've wanted us to remain like a family, like we've always been, and not to mourn him. But to celebrate his life—he always did look so positively on the world.”

Bertholdt clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth together, the woman continued on though. Just a few more comments before everyone began to touch the food. Potatoes, bread rolls, roast, gravy, squash, beansprouts and so on were passed around. It was like an extra thanksgiving.

And the teenagers ate in silence, for the most part. The adults conversing amongst themselves, in between sips on wine and a mouth full of food.

Just like every year...

\--

...And just like every year on the 19th of March...

Annie had grabbed the blanket, flapping it in the air before slowly laying in on the ground. One of the corners was still upturned, and the ends were winkled. But the blanket served its purpose and the trio took their seats. Above them the sun ways rising, the headstone taking on a shine in the raising light.

Reiner's hands settled on the stone, “hey Berik, how have you been holding up?” Beside the blond haired man was a cooler. Every year they did this. Bring food and drinks... if there was homework they would bring that as well. But for the whole of daylight hours the trio would sit in front of Berik's headstone on this queen sized plaid comforter and 'shoot the breeze' with the remains of their friend.

“You should know that there's a love triangle forming, it seems like both of us weren't prepared for this,” Annie cut in. She pulled out of bottle of water from the cooler, and crossed her legs. They were going to be here for awhile, might as well settle in.

“Speaking of relationships, Annie seems to have started forming one,” Bertholdt smiled shyly at the girl, and she levelled him with a hard stare. “What? You're not exactly being secretive about suddenly treating Marco differently,” the tanned teen rolled his eyes.

“Its not exactly a relationship _yet_ ,” she emphasized the yet with both a lift of a pale blonde eyebrow and body leaning towards the tall teen.

“But you don't deny the possibility of it being one later, right?” Reiner stood in for the tanned boy. Annie shrugged, “is that a shrug for 'yes' or...?”

The girl scoffed, “its a 'wait and see' shrug. I'm not going to say that I know what'll happen a week from now, or a few days... maybe even years from now.” Again she shrugged, “its more of a if it happens it happens kind of thing.”

“Ooh, look at the _little lion_. All talkative—is that a hint of blush on your cheeks?” Reiner poked at the pale girl's cheeks and she slapped at the intruding appendage. And he was right, there was a faint touch of pink on her cheeks and it was slowly creeping to the tips of her ears. She shook off the warmth, now was not the time nor was it the place for such thoughts and feelings pertaining to her own relationships.

Although she knew that Berik would've loved nothing more than prying into it and listening to her _swoon_ like the school girl that she unfortunately was. Just because she was something doesn't mean that she had to be lumped together into the stereotype. That just wasn't Annie's thing, thanks. “You shut your mouth, asshat,” she retorted.

Both of the boys laughed at that.

\--

Of course the peace was short lived, they were talking again. Filling the buried bones in on what had happened in that year—and of course, what was to be had. The conversation had paused for a moment after the recap of what had happened before Annie hissed something under her breath that the two males didn't catch. The blonde haired girl flopped back onto the blanket afterwards and the silence only grew heavier since then.

See, the worst part came when Annie got mad.

It stewed within her gut, twisting and turning until the acid and stomach contents rose in her throat. She quickly sat up at the feeling of pile rising in her throat. She swallowed thickly, “I hate you sometimes.” Both Reiner and Bertholdt would never say these things; they'd say that they missed him and that they were upset still. But never did the say that they'd ever been mad at him.

But Annie had.

When she first heard the news her heart broke, along with her mind. She stood stark still in the kitchen, the entrance between the living room and kitchen in all actuality. The normally freezing linoleum that every morning would freeze her toes and act like a jolt to wake her up became nothing but a far off memory from that day on. She felt nothing against her feet as her brain stuttered and slowly began to reboot. _Dead_ , the text on her phone forming together a sentence. **One new voice mail** , it had read.

Of course that morning Annie hadn't listened to it until much later—after watching a grown woman cry.

“I hate you so much, do you know that?” she hissed again hands clenched into fists and head tilted down until her hair covered her face, acting like a barrier between her and her two companions. They wouldn't understand, they couldn't. “If you fucking cared so much you would be here to look after them yourself, you selfish bastard!” She shook her head, trying to rid the screaming, negative thoughts from her head before she spoke anything else.

“Annie—” Bertholdt voiced, but the blond male laid a heavy hand on his knee.

She needed this.

For years, Annie hardly spoke on this day. She would just wallow in the growing anger and stew in the anguish of loosing someone close. She was the one that looked out for all of them, and yet Berik died. And here she was supposed to look after those two idiots, as well as herself, and pray that nothing would go wrong. Again.

For years she sat here, going nothing further than pleasantries and fluff, letting the boys do all the important talking. That's how she was, she stood strong... and silent. She was afraid that if she spoke too much her protection—everything that she striven for—would crumple and again she'd be left with nothing but broken promises and dreams and two idiots just as broken as she was.

She couldn't do it again, just couldn't.

“You kept pretending that everything was fine, but it wasn't! You're such a fucking idiot,” she paused noticing her mistake. “You were a stupid idiot,” she corrected quietly, “we were your _friends_. We had each other's back.” Her hand buried into her hair and she tugged, the pain grounding her. She felt the breeze prickle at her cheeks, with the touch of the wind she could finally notice that she was crying. The tears growing from warm to cool in moments gathered her attention.

Her shoulder's shook.

“Who's supposed to have my back?” she whispered, “who's supposed to hold me when I cry?” Marco briefly flashed in the depth of her mind, but that was an anomaly. He wasn't to be calculated in this; it wasn't supposed to happen, and it would never happen again. Annie wouldn't let it. He wouldn't understand and so she wouldn't put him into a position that would give him the opportunity to understand. She shook her head, hair flying with the motion. She continued to do so until she felt Reiner's arms wrap around her and gather her into her lap so he could in case her.

Reiner's hugs were legendary; they were perfect. They made the hug-y feel safe, warm, and protected. His huge, head popping, arms wrapped solidly yet protectively around the hug-y. His chin, propped on the crown of the hug-y's head, with the hug-y's head buried in his muscly man-boobs created from hours of daily gym exercises, American Football, hunting and overall dedication to something or another.

All in all though, Reiner's hugs were great.

He had a way of running a hand through your hair that almost mimics the feel of a mother comforting their child woken from a night terror. The little murmurs against your hair, although did not stop the tears, just made the anguish lessen into something more manageable. The other hand would rub small circles on your back and wouldn't stop even when the tears and the shaking did—only when Annie would remove herself from him and voice, “I'm fine. I'm going to be alright.”

And she did.

She will be fine, she always would.

Always will...

She had these two boys to look after, to take care of. She couldn't afford not to be.

 


End file.
